A brief-yet-ongoing journal of all things Carmi. You'll laugh, you'll cry, you'll reach for your mouse to click back to Google. But you'll be intrigued. And you'll feel compelled to return following your next bowl of oatmeal. With brown sugar. And milk.

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Sunday, August 19, 2012

The silos that divide us

About this photo: Thematic celebrates the color grey this week, as we attempt to prove it's a lot brighter than anyone ever thought. Got something to share? Head here.

Somewhere east of the average town's centreline, where the railroad tracks go, there's a collection of architecture that time seems to have forgotten. Living in our leafy suburbs or densely packed downtowns, it's easy to forget that everything we have was built on an industrial past, but a short ride beyond our usual haunts will easily remind us that cities don't just materialize out of the countryside. They're built. And the stuff that builds them isn't always as pristine as the PR folks would like us to believe.

PR folks, notwithstanding, I've always loved the feel of buildings, streets and neighborhoods that thrived long before any of us got here, that seem to wear their age with more than a little bit of defiance, that seem somewhat ghostlike and out of place in a modern world that doesn't quite know what to do with them. In many cases, they continue to function - in this case, storing bulk goods for loading and unloading the adjacent rail yard - but no one in our own circles seems to know anyone who works here. In effect, they've been disconnected from the souls of the very cities they helped create.

That doesn't make them any less worthy of exploring with a lens. In fact, I need to get back here more often to dig a little deeper. You never know when all of this could simply disappear.